


All In a Night's Work

by Unforth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (i'm not sorry), Alternate Universe - Medical, Bottom Dean, Crack, Doctor Castiel, I cannot figure out how to tag this, I'm Sorry, M/M, Medical Kink, Medical Patient Dean, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 14:17:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12749997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Doctor Castiel Novak's evening is enlivened by patient Dean Winchester, who, according to his record, has a habit of pursuing...unusual rectal stimulation. But Castiel *must* have misheard Nurse Masters when she said the patient had a *cactus* inside him.





	All In a Night's Work

**Author's Note:**

> This is crack. It's not quite PWP, in that it's not actually that pornographic...it's...I guess I'd call it the kinkiest meet cute I've ever written??
> 
> Written in reply to a Tumblr ask from [envydean](http://envydean.tumblr.com/), inspired by [this post.](http://unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com/post/167565056088/reallyelegantsharkfish-fanfic-advice-from)
> 
> (Photo embedded in the text, credit to me cause I took that picture all by myself. ;) )
> 
> Also, sorry to say this is unedited - I wanted to but people kept interrupting and I'm now out of time. I might try to clean it up later. But I really should get back to my NaNoWriMo project.

“I’m sorry... _what_?”

Castiel  _couldn’t_ have heard that right.

“There’s a...” Nurse Masters gasped, struggling to breathe she was laughing so hard. “He’s got...oh God...I can’t even...” Doubling over, she scrounged a neatly labeled manila folder from her desk - a surprisingly thick, extensive patient folder - and slapped it onto the counter. “Just...just go see.” She managed a deep breath and tried to straight up.

“You said  _cactus_.”

With a helpless snort, she collapsed in renewed gales.

“ _How_?”

Unable to answer, Meg waved him down the hall. Shaking his head in disbelief, Castiel took the folder up and paged through. 

Patient Name: Dean Winchester

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: January 24th, 1979

Complaint...

...Meg’s handwriting was illegible. No wonder she couldn’t breathe, based on available evidence she’d been laughing since intake. Poor Mr. Winchester, he must be so ashamed.

Then again - even if Castiel misheard (he  _must_ have misheard!) - coming to the ER with anything stuck in one’s anus was a mortifying experience even if the nurse kept their composure. Flipping through the other medical reports, though, Castiel started to wonder. Porn series were less extensive in experimenting with anal stimulation. Castiel scanned the reports quickly, eyes growing wider as he perused each. 

Mr. Winchester had been to the ER repeatedly, and  _always_  with something new and unusual lodged in his anal canal: an eggplant, a remote control, a wooden dowel, a Kitchenaide attachment, a bong, a dildo shaped like a tentacle complete with suckers, a dog toy apparently called a Kong, the list went on and on.

Maybe he really  _did_ have a cactus in his rectum.

Castiel found the thought...strangely appealing. This Mr. Winchester was clearly desperate, and creative. What he lacked was supervision of his behavior - someone to select the objects, create a safe environment, walk him through his fetish...

...and damn if reading the file wasn’t giving Castiel all kinds of naughty ideas.

On the last page a note writ large in sharpie.

 **Mr. Winchester is a sexual exhibitionist. Do not admit except in dire situations. One more violation and he will be banned from the facility.**  

 _...maybe he’s_ not  _embarrassed..._

_...how...fascinating..._

Smiling, shaking his head, Castiel flipped the folder to the newest page once more and pushed open the door.

“Yo, doc!” said a jovial, deep, sexy voice.

Even more fascinating: Dean Winchester was devastatingly handsome.

Castiel honest to god needed a moment to compose himself.

The nurse had laid Mr. Winchester on his stomach on a gurney, bent at the waist. The position didn’t look comfortable, but presumably no position was comfortable given Mr. Winchester’s predicament. Arms folded beneath his face, he side-eyed Castiel with an impish grin, clothed in flannel save for his exposed posterior, the offending plant evident as a mass of roots tangled with soil that smeared dark dirt over Mr. Winchester’s butt cheeks.

Meg would  _certainly_ have given Mr. Winchester the modesty of a blanket.

Mr. Winchester’s grin widened.

“Good evening, Mr. Winchester--”

“Ugh - Dean, please!”

“My name is Doctor Castiel Novak, and I’m afraid that Nurse Masterss notes on your case are...non-diagnostic. While I’m loathe to force you to relive your trauma again, would you mind acquainting me with your situation?”

“No trauma, no worries, Doc,” Dean said. “I mean, hurts like woah, but still...nothin’ I didn’t do to myself.” He wiggled his ass by emphasis and the first sign of discomfort flashed over his features.

_...and he’s good humored about it...and God is he an exhibitionist...he is far too tempting...have to be careful..._

“And what, exactly, did you do to yourself?”

“Cactus. Up my ass.”

“A cactus.”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time?” Dean gave a half shrug and grimaced. “I mean, I’m a slut - as I’m sure you saw in my file - but I’m not a fuckin’ moron. Picked the cactus carefully, made sure it wasn’t, ya know, all spiny and shit, it had soft lookin’ needles and when I touched ‘um I was fine, so I figured I was good to go. Curiosity killed the cat, and made a mess of my ass, I guess. Again.”

“Satisfaction brought him back,” Castiel murmured thoughtfully, approaching Dean.

“What was that?”

“The full saying - ‘curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back,’” Castiel explained, eying the protruding plant. Dean would probably need surgery to remove it, depending how firmly it was embedded. The alternative would be...painful. 

“Did it now?” There was something weird in Dean’s tone; uncertain how to read the inflection, Castiel glanced up and caught him leering.

_And the interest appears mutual._

“You seem surprisingly un-weirded out but how fuckin’ weird this is,” Dean continued. “Not what I’m used to.”

“Oh? What’s the usual professional medical opinion of your hobby?” asked Castiel.

“Either the nurses - laughing their damn ass off - or strugglin’ for all their worth to play the professional.”

“So - you haven’t yet explained how the cactus grew wedged within you,” said Castiel. It was too late to pretend the situation bothered him, but not too late to do his job responsibly.

“Those soft needles?” Dean paused, and to Castiel’s confusion, didn’t continue until Castiel nodded acknowledgement. “They’re like those fuckers at toll booths that rip your tires to shreds if you try to back up. Unidirectional sons of bitches.” 

Squatting behind Dean, Castiel carefully spread his cheeks apart. The green base of the plant was barely visible peeking out, fuzzy white needles dewey with ample lubricant. Dean was kinky, but, as he’d said, he wasn’t an idiot. He’d clearly prepped himself. He just hadn’t adequately examined his surrogate dildo, hadn’t considered the potential challenges adequately...truly, what Dean needed was  _guidance_.

“When you attempted to withdraw the cactus, the needles caught in your flesh?” said Castiel. Rising, he set the folder down on the exam room counter, grabbed a fair of gloves, and tugged them on.

“Hurt like a mother fucker,” grumbled Dean. For the first time, he flushed and turned away with apparent shame. “Believe it or not, this  _ain’t_ my idea of a fun way to spend a Saturday night.”

“Having sex with a cactus is, though?”

“Like I said - curiosity.”

Returning to his position behind Dean, Castiel examined the offended area once more. The cactus was modestly sized, smaller than other objects that Dean had come to the ER over. There was no telling how deeply wedged it was, nor how extensively the needles had damaged him, but...

“Your records indicate that you fetishize the exhibitionism of being treated by a medical professional when your ill-conceived attempts at self-stimulation end poorly.”

“Woah, really? It says that about me? What else does it say? Even my therapist doesn’t have me pegged so well – and my therapist pegs me pretty damn well.”

Dean’s smirk was back.

The temptation to reach between Dean’s legs, to grasp the erection that he certainly sported, was strong, but Castiel resisted.

 _Not here, not now. Professional. Get him treated, get him out of here, and then – and_ only _then…_

“Dean, as I see it, you have two choices.”

“I’m all ears.”

“A visual inspection is not adequate to determine the extent of your injuries,” Castiel explained. “In my professional opinion, you should have a CT Scan to assess the damage and surgery to ensure that the cactus is removed.”

“Sounds expensive.”

“It will be, yes. Do you have insurance?”

“Yeah, but they’ve caught on to my fetish, too. What’s behind door number two?”

“Your second option is that I grasp this cactus with my hand and pull firmly to remove it, and then by visual inspection remove any needles lodged within you, give you stitches as required, and discharge you with a prescription for percocet.”

“Sure I’m not an opioid abuser?”

“Your records would indicate if you were,” said Castiel, “and even so…I think we both know what your addiction is.” He ran a thumb over Dean’s stretched, wrinkled rim, way smoothed by lube. Dean shivered.

“So…that’s gonna hurt.”

“Yes. And, if the damage is more extensive than I believe it to be, could result in serious injury, and you may need surgery anyway.”

“Is that…ethical?”

“In the end, it’s my choice as your doctor, and your choice as patient.”

“…fuck it, do it.”

“Are you sure, Dean?”

“What, want me to sign a waiver? Full the fuckin’ thing out. I’d a done it myself ‘cept it hurt so damn bad that whenever I tried I had to stop.”

“Alright…prepare yourself…”

“Times like this, I really wish I was a masochist, too…” muttered Dean, clenching his fists, gritting his teeth, and closing his eyes.

Castiel focused on the butt before him, and the cactus within it. Dean’s rim fluttered and clenched, muscles tight.

“Try to relax,” he added, running his hands soothingly over Dean’s butt cheeks. Dean moaned softly. Masochist or not, he was _definitely_ getting off on this.

_This is a terrible idea._

_But the alternative…_

“Would you like me to administer a numbing agent?”

“Expensive?” asked Dean.

“Quite.”

“Then no. I’m already doped up. This is the best it’s gonna get. Just do it.”

A shiver ran down Castiel’s back, heat pooling in his gut, twitching through his cock.

“I’ll give you a count down,” Castiel said, grasping the base of the cactus. The needles felt soft even through his latex gloves. He could see why Dean was fooled. “Three…two…one!” He jerked the cactus out as he said one, anticipating the final count so Dean wouldn’t tense. It withdrew easily, smaller even than Castiel had thought, coated in lubricant and blood. Dean gasped, shook, and broke into sobs. Momentarily at a loss, Castiel stared at the plant he held, stared at the blood oozing from Dean’s rear, stared Dean shaking and crying, and then Castiel forced himself into action.

_I guess this goes in a sharp’s container?_

Moving quickly, with purpose, he disposed of the cactus, spines tickling at his fingers as they caught in his gloves, stripped off the gloves, and obtained a new pair. Returning to his position behind Dean, he lay a hand on the small of Dean’s back.

“You’re alright now,” he murmured. “It’s out. I’m going to take care of you, alright?”

“Tha…thanks, Doc…”

“I’m going to get the supplies I need to patch you up, and I’ll be back shortly. Try not to test the anal stimulation potential of anything in the room while I’m gone.”

Between his distressed cries, Dean managed throaty laughs. “Think I’m…on hiatus…from butt stuff…for a bit…”

_Not too long, I hope…_

“That’s would be wise,” Castiel replied. Heading out the door, he went to get what he’d need to repair the damage to Dean’s behind, mind awhirr with the _potential_ in Dean’s kinks.

_He’s got a medical fetish, and is a size queen, and is obsessed with object stimulation…_

_…all things considered, I’m…kind of his ideal…_

_…and he’s mine…_

It was a long, dull night after that. Dean needed to be stretched wide, cleaned, tweezers used to remove every lodged needle, topical novocaine administered to dull the pain, and stitches done to close the worst of his wounds. Through it all, Dean grumbled and joked, doing his best to hide how much pain he was in, and Castiel tried to work quickly and efficiently. Still, it was a hell of a job, and dawn approached before he finished.

Dean came at least once.

Castiel said nothing about it.

Finally, _finally_ , it was discharge time.

“Thanks, doc,” Dean managed a weak smile, though fatigue and lingering pain tightened his handsome features. “That was…uh…that was shit, but it was also one of the best experiences I’ve had at this hospital.”

“You’re not done,” Castiel cautioned, running through potential phrasings in his head at a mile a minute. “This will need to be examined, and two of the stitches will need to be removed because the damage was more extensive.”

“Fuck, really? I gotta have a follow up?”

“You indicated expense was an issue?” Castiel waited until Dean nodded. “I have a…a proposition for you…”

Dean’s eyes widened. “A proposition, huh? Alright…I’m listening…”

“I’m a trained medical professional whether I’m here or…elsewhere. We could arrange clandestine treatment, for which I wouldn’t charge, and we could take care of your treatment discretely. We could also discuss any other…issues…that you have.”

“Other…medical issues?”

“…of course.”

“Is _that_ ethical?”

“Regardless, I’m making the offer.”

The slow smile that broke over Dean’s face was more beautiful than the sunrise cresting the hill outside the hospital, shone more brightly than the stunning orange rays. “I’d need your number for that.”

“You have it,” said Castiel, smiling in return. “I gave you my card, it’s with your discharge papers.”

Scrounging through his pockets, Dean pulled out the documents Castiel had given him and flipped through them until, with a triumphant cry, he withdrew Castiel’s business card, personal cell phone number written neatly on the back.

“You’re serious.”

“I’m absolutely serious.”

“That, uh…that sounds awesome, Doc.”

“Please, Dean…call me Cas.”

“Right…uh...right. I’ll be in touch, Cas…” Dean’s smile went shy. He carefully put the card in a different pocket, all by itself, managed a slight wave, and awkwardly headed out the door, squinting against the light.

“What the fuck…” said an astonished Meg from behind the discharge desk.

“Still think I have a terrible bedside manner?” Castiel countered. She laughed incredulously. “All in a night’s work.”

“I bet. But if it means I’ve never got to see Winchester’s bare ass again, I’m all in.”

“Thank you, Nurse. I rely on your discretion.”

“You’ve got it…”

Humming happily to himself, Castiel went to clean up, update Dean’s file, and imagine the multitudinous sexual applications of the many pieces of medical equipment surrounding him.

_All in a truly excellent night’s work…_

 

**Author's Note:**

> omfg while I was posting this (while at my job) someone saw the cactus picture and was like, "WHAT is that?"
> 
> Well. Um. It's a cactus.
> 
> A phallic cactus.
> 
> But a cactus. I haven't violated any company policies, nope, just looking at innocent pictures of cacti...
> 
> Oh man.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [All In A Night's Work [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14847269) by [silkylustre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkylustre/pseuds/silkylustre)




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